Malevolence
by Sayloni
Summary: …Because it was so evident that it was not this iniquitous creature, but he himself, like dear Aurora, who needed to be rescued from the recurring nightmares of an awestruck slumber. Yet could L be anything but the Wicked Witch, perhaps even his Prince? Or would he forever remain the cursed needle? ...A fanfiction inspired by RobinRocks and Narroch's 'Poison Apple'.


A/N: Sayloni doesn't know why she wrote this, so seriously, don't ask. She had swore never to step foot in DN Fandom, because really, she's a great fan and doesn't want her inability to justify any of its characters to annoy people. She held back for five damned years! Oh well, it's good that she's a wonderful liar, though.

Sayloni stumbled onto a fanfiction… no, more like the fanfiction, while she was searching for a good multi-chaptered fic (preferably LxLight), and she's been an admirer ever since. It's called 'Poison Apple', and if you're a true fangirl of Death Note (yaoi, mind you), then she doesn't need to explain what PA is. And so, this omake has been looming about Sayloni for a span of two years and five months, staring at her whenever she opens up the computer, as if threatening her to try and delete it without publishing…so here it is! With a little bit of rework, of course… okay, a lot actually (-_-)/

Warning: This fic is a work of fiction, a yaoi fanfiction to be precise (aka boyxboy). If you have no taste in this genre or have probably never heard about it, Sayloni suggests you stop now and go over to the innocent side of FF Net. Also, L and Light are originally straight, no offence to the hand cuffs, but have been twisted and turned in Sayloni's fangirly mind for this lone fic…Her sincere apologies to their inventors, distributors and fans -_-*

Disclaimer: Sayloni, sadly, doesn't own Death note (the manga, anime, movies, rumors regarding scripts for the American remake available on internet, soundtracks, and novels included), whose actual God is the amazing duo of Ohba-san and Obata-sensei, and a bunch of others for the omega-awesome franchise (whoa, that sounded like Tsuruya)! Also, 'Poison Apple' is a delectable brainchild of RobinRocks and Narroch and not, sadly again, hers (my, why does epicness thrive in pairs she wonders (-_-) she so needs to find her other half in the field of writing ).

Anyways, this is a work inspired by that hobbyhorse, and hopefully, enjoyable. Proceed!

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Malice.

…such a beautiful word.

It was all that clouded Light's mind as he straddled the older male with proficient liquid motions, peering at the detective in semi darkness.

An inert form…appeased.

Light couldn't help the scrunching up of his nose.

Being humiliated day after day, night after night, imprisoned by this morose creature of the dark, watching him stack sugar upon sugar as he was questioned rhetorically, forced into camaraderie that was nothing but a danse macabre to rupture him further… Light decided that he had the right to do it if only just this once.

It was indispensable for his own sense of worth. A deed he had to accomplish at any price.

Malice…

It was a trail of action he'd elected after an hour of considering.

The melody of meek sighs caste the room into a silence of eerie lullabies. As he altered over, placing his knees on either side of his captor, the softness of the mattress shifting beneath his looming presence, the boy felt something churn in the pit of his stomach.

Grown out of his foetal stance for once, the detective was asleep. It was an act so humane that associating it with this mirthless, appalling creature, who lay not a foot away from him in a sound slumber, no matter however many times he'd already witnessed it, made Light feel nauseas all over again.

This was L… cruel, merciless, reveling in his peace while pilfering Light's own sanity.

Yes, this was L.

The moon illuminated a sickly shade of his pale flesh. His eyelids fluttered, like wistful petals of cherry, the dreams that graced his twisted sense of justice reverberating in the back of that brilliant subconscious Light had come to both admire and dread. The obscurity beneath his eyes pronounced like two gory chasms, waiting to swallow up anyone who dared to go against his wishes.

Light wondered, with a vague intellect of reality, how blood managed to flow through those sugar-clogged veins.

His fingers made soft, intricate patterns on the pale orifice.

A tingling scent of strawberries greeted Light as he leaned in, and the boy felt his mind coax out an image of that one crimson droplet running down the side of a porcelain jaw, like fresh blood splattered onto snow…

Like Snow White.

Undeniably, L was enticing. He was the virgin patch of that beautiful coldness atop the distant of mountains, a harmony so perfect that one couldn't help but long to disrupt it.

Yes, that was L.

With his thin, insipid lips that invited Light for reasons unfathomable… captivating, entrancing, that was L.

Before the boy could comprehend, the spite suddenly desultory, his mouth had nullified the distance between the sleeping creature and himself. Full pink lips connected with a slim pale pair. It was a lingering touch, a feathery union of spring and frost, so chaste and soft that Light was visibly alarmed to feel the rise and fall of the bony chest under him growing uneven.

Perhaps the serpent had awoken; perhaps this was the end of him.

Or perhaps this would be a Snow White story wherein a true love's first kiss would bring the slumbering princess back into the prince's arm?

He never found out though, because as odd as it seemed, the detective hadn't stirred beyond his initial ragged breathing at all. Light unconsciously let his knuckles brush against the pale jaw and roamed the distance to a delicate collarbone, faraway, chuckling.

Snow White… Really, what had his mind been playing at?

This was L.

Small, fragile, perhaps even beautiful in his own way, but it was still L.

…The very L who was out for his blood, merely, due to lack of other options.

The boy raised a hand to the lifeless form, reaching for the midnight ebony tresses. He had that unexplainable craving to entangle his fingers into its oblivion. To lose himself within its interminable depth, to bury his face into those tousles and breathe in the literal smell of his own decease…That was how this God awful man made him feel; distraught and utterly mystified.

His fingers curled into the detective's hair.

Or it was, perhaps, more of desire to jerk this spiteful creature awake and drag him across the floor, have him heaved out of that open window into the frosty, twinkling night…

That was when a glint of metal caught his stagnant eyes, and Light realized, morbid, that the demise of this monster beneath him would only encourage his own in turn. Ridding himself off of this man would pave his way to an even abysmal conclusion.

…Because as much as he hated to admit it, they were linked, connected, bound in concert so meticulously that none could befall a fate without causing the other's demise.

Literally.

The cuff perched upon that bony wrist, daunting. Its gleam rivaled the ferocity with which its true abuser stared at him day and night. The metallic links curled around the blankness of the sheets, travelling underneath a pale neck, and ricocheted to attach themselves around his own outstretched arm.

The chains… Light almost snickered.

Disconcerting to know that such an odious article could define their relationship in every precise approach.

It was a poignant reminder that whatever alternative Light chose, he would still remain a captive. It was a souvenir declaring that this creature, languid yet ruthless, wouldn't be satisfied unless he were some horrendous, cold-blooded, mass-murderer with paranormal killing methods, that he wouldn't yield until and unless it was Light's head that be delivered on a silver platter.

Yes, L would have none but him to be the criminal he executed.

To this unmoved creature, he reflected bitterly, Yagami Light would mean nothing if he weren't Kira.

The boy, forlorn, with the softness of the detective's throat teasing his malevolent desires, inclined his gaze to trace the porcelain flesh that peered out of spotless white. His fingers amused themselves amid the spacious, crinkly hem of the detective's top.

Were these shackles, therefore, the creature's way of saying that he couldn't bear to let Light go?

Paradoxical and, perhaps, utter nonsense.

… like the beast imprisoning an innocent in a vinegary reminiscence of avenging something he'd lost, mislaid, something too precious gone astray, too crucial, or perhaps something he'd never owned in the first place.

Beastly…Yes.

Bounding him with lies and false hopes of affections; cornering him until he was forced to doubt his own virtue… that was L.

Driving him to the brink of his sanity… that was L.

The righteous, supreme L.

The same exact one who lay beneath him now, completely ignorant of Light's bloodthirsty charisma, utterly vulnerable for all he was while wakeful.

Perhaps that was why this creature never slept, because he knew what mortal fate would await him if he as much as closed his eyes in a presence, illicit or otherwise. Perhaps that was the sole reason behind his ceaseless existence. That was why such a creature still remained alive.

But Light could do it now.

This defenseless thing under him could be gone forever.

Breaking this exotic creature, like a glass slipper shattering into a million glittering drops of crystallized dew, would be so pleasing and fulfilling, so breathtakingly beautiful.

…So enthralling.

To have his fingers wrap around that slender neck and to squeeze gleefully. To watch with sinister satisfaction as those soulless eyes pooled in stark terror. To be mesmerized by the way his legs flailed and those spidery claws grabbed at thin air, desperate, mordant, but failing to find an anchor in this world of the breathing.

…So tempting.

Squirming and choking and writhing below him…

That should be L.

In a dreamy haze, Light felt his fingers pick at the two lustrous edges that peeked out from either side of the detective's pacified frame. He cradled them, gently, almost delicately.

…As if even a clink of that metal would break the spell Maleficent hath cast onto beloved Aurora.

Silently, the metallic links wound around the pale throat, cold and solid, digging, almost painfully, against a jittering Adam's apple. Light noted with vindictive delight how this creature still failed to perceive the exploitation of his bland, susceptible state.

Ironic, the boy mused, to have the manacles that bound him to this beast, that stained him a prisoner in his own mind, become the very key to his freedom.

An innocent flick of his fingers, or an accidental jerk of his cuffed wrist… that was all it'd take for that delicate neck to snap. Just a little more vigor and…

The sight of the lethal metal sliding against that porcelain expanse of skin was almost arousing.

He could say it was a mishap. That L had been hell bent on not liberating the chains while they slept. That in turn he had entangled himself while tossing and turning in bed and, sorrowfully, throttled and suffocated to his death in the quiet of the night.

Most unfortunate that Light had been too tired to stir during those hours of darkness.

…how depressing.

Nobody would disprove it. In fact, nobody would even bring themselves to doubt it…Because he'd forced Light to lose those precious hours of sleep himself, because the chains had been his suggestion to begin with, because it had been L who incarcerated them to each other against everyone's condemn.

Really, Ryuuzaki, what was he thinking when he bound himself to an even bitter beast?

Light felt a maniacal grin tear his face in half. The tingling in his body reached a new pinnacle as the creature beneath him gave a low moan of discomfort at the stinging sensation the metal caused. Perhaps he'd awaken now, hands flying out to grab at his perpetrator, those wide eyes brimming with hatred, apprehension, fear…

For once to see them hold some trinket of emotion.

"Is this how Kira would feel …L?"

He was idling, he supposed, whispering hysterical nothings at which a conscious L would have only jeered and scoffed. But he would not now, could not, for he remained spellbound by that deep slumber initiated to procure a happily ever after.

Though could they have one in the end …their happily ever after?

Like the fairytale of the beast cursed for his vanity, could Light confess and rid him of this everlasting torture? Could the shattering of that glass coffin become their paradise?

…Of course not.

To this glum creature a confession meant little but the opening of doors to an execution chamber.

…Because this was L.

Not some poor, sleeping princess struck by the alluring pull of a spindle whereupon a single prick of the enchanted needle decided her fate, L was prudence, that discretion prowling a placate…Though he might be childish; L was no darling Aurora, no naïveté, he was but Maleficent herself.

Callous, heartless…That was L.

Powerful yet subtle, vanquishing, perhaps the most dominant of figures on this chess board, the Queen. But his fall from grace would not be grieved, because the game could continue without him, because the dance must go on at even the cost of losing his demeaning poise. It was the King who decided the victor in due course. Though useless and of little ascendancy, yes, but L would never be given precedence over it.

"To search for you day and night and to finally have you beside him, so defenseless…"

He was mumbling now, distant, a thumb caressing those bloodless lips that quivered under his barest touch. He could lean in again, capture them a second time, perhaps nip and bite and tear them off after he was finished, bruised and battered, lick just a bit and let the rest of that searing, hot blood, like rose petals, abstract the whiteness of these sheets…

…Hair as black as ebony, skin as white as snow.

Light's eyes glazed over.

"Tell me, my dear Snow White, is that how you wish to die?"

That was when cold fingers wrapped around his wrist, startling the boy out of his reverie so effectively that if it wasn't for their vice grip on him, the detective's neck might actually have snapped off like a parched twig.

"My, my, Raito-kun, attempting to murder me in my sleep now, are we?"

Light looked down at himself, seemingly noticing the chains crossed around the other's neck that came to rest in his own two hands for the first time. A mixture of confusion, surprise and raw terror welled up inside him. Realization dawned into his honey eyes.

What had he been trying to do? Kill L?

Malice…

"Is it safe to assume, then, that this was the reason for which Raito-kun insisted on having all of the surveillance removed from this room?"

He raised his head to regard the man, hesitant. Two dark eyes stared right back at him; like mirrors that showed one the truth of it all, reflecting his horrified semblance, eating him up whole, undulating, unblinking.

Mirror-mirror…

That was L.

Unmoved, astute, not knowing how to feel dread …That was L.

The very L whose overwhelming eyes were now analyzing him as if he were a wild animal escaping into the land of higher beings. What had he done now, unraveling the wrath of this monster? Would he be allowed mercy? Would he live to see another ray of aurora, or will it be a dark cavern to perish in for the rest of his life?

"Y-you are awake," Light swallowed.

"Awake, you say?" A dry chuckle echoed in the gloom of the night, and the boy felt those spidery fingers plow into his wrists. The bland monotone felt like ice to his ringing ears, "On the contrary, Raito-kun, I never went to sleep in the first place."

Light went limp, horror-struck. It was like an entire apple had been wedged into his throat out of the blue.

"Y-you mean, you were awake the w-whole time?"

"Why Raito-kun, haven't I confirmed that already?" There was the unmistakable hint of a smirk lacing his lips, "It is not like you to require the same explanation twice."

Light felt the beginnings of an ache gnaw at the back of his mind. He found his eye twitching. His body felt cumbersome, cold shivers running down his spine. His stomach twisted into a painful knot, and he wasn't sure if he should feel aghast or amused or aggravated.

This creature had been awake. He had been conscious all the while Light reveled in his own homicidal tendencies, caressed the porcelain skin, kissed the pallid lips, stroked the starless night tresses, breathed in that alluring scent. He hadn't opened them, not even a morsel, but Light knew those ghoulish mirrors were replicating every single stir he'd made.

Why hadn't he noticed?

To be this careless, this low on guard in front of this brutal, grisly creature was utterly uncharacteristic of Yagami Light. He'd been the crown among high fliers, in each and every approach. He had been so scrupulous, so thorough, and so serene. Why, then, did he keep on reiterating the same blunders now?

…Because this was L.

The insensitive, insulting creature that awoke to only send Light to his poison apple induced slumber…That was L.

"Why?"

The older male stared at him, curious, his mirror-mirror eyes wide. His lean fingers fiddled lazily with the metallic links that constricted around his throat. "The sole word could comprise many implications at once, Raito-kun," his neck cocked to one angle disturbingly like a raven's, or perhaps a magpie's, "Kindly elaborate."

"Why do you do it?"

The detective gazed at him, amusement lustrous in his midnight orbs.

Light was tensing, cold sweat breaking over tanned skin under the intense, uncouth stare, though he himself couldn't comprehend why. His fingers tightened around the chains, his eyes sheltered by soft auburn strands to keep from meeting his own image. He was dreading it, the thing that reflected in those bottomless depths…

It was never Yagami Light who smiled back.

It was instead a monster who smirked at his outshined appearance, malevolent burgundy cutting right into him, an image of himself twisted around so macabre that Light began to shiver in its scrutiny.

…It was a sad aide memoire of how L truly saw him.

"I still do not understand, Raito-kun."

"Why do you do it?"

He was shouting now, the neutrally blank voice he feigned melting into a shriller tone. His fists clenched around the metallic links, anger bubbling inside his now shuddering frame and he twisted them, disgusted, appalled, thoroughly mortified.

"Raito-kun, what are-"

"You bloody well know what I mean!" He jerked at the chains, earning a choked response from the pastel creature under him, "This…this sick game you keep playing, calling me a friend one second and accusing me of being Kira the next, twisting my own words around to trap me, Ryuuzaki…you, making me doubt myself…why do you…why do you do it?" His words were barely above a whisper, "Do you enjoy hurting me?"

"Now, now, Raito-kun, that seems hardly fair. I should answer your hysterical queries when it is you who tries to assassinate me while I'm resting here open to the elements…How conceited you are."

And this creature had the audacity to laugh.

Light's reason snapped. He pulled at the chains viciously, almost growling, and hauled the detective off of the mattress until the frail frame was only hanging by their length, that pallid face mere inches away from his own, stifled mutely, their breathes, hot and cold, fusing en masse.

"But it's your damned fault! All of this, it's because of you, Ryuuzaki! I'm sick of you! I've had enough!" He seethed, suddenly lowering his voice, "Stop it, Ryuuzaki. I'm not Kira. Just stop it and let me go."

"…I'm afraid that cannot be done until after I've confirmed Raito-kun to be guiltless."

"See? That's what I'm talking about!" Light narrowed his honey orbs, fuming, the chains further tightening around the other's throat as he nodded towards them, "Get rid of these, Ryuuzaki, or I swear I'll bury you alive."

Though a porcelain neck stiffened against the acidity of metal, the smirk on those bloodless lips did not waver, for even on her deathbed, Maleficent knew no dread. The sordid strawberry tanginess snowed under his nostrils. A set of mirrors reflected the frenzied look in the boy's eyes, and Light had to force himself against looking away.

The lips moved, leisurely, tentatively, and even with his murderous intent and that unprocessed resentment, Light couldn't help but want to bite in sensually, to drink and nip and suckle on their tempting sweetness.

"…Up by eight percent, Raito-kun."

Malice…?

It was then that Light lost all hope, the point where his fairytale crashed and shattered into a million bloodcurdling screams that echoed in his mind, because this creature who could have chosen no other words this solemn, nothing else that could sever him so beyond repair, had broken it again …Because this was L.

Adamant, childish…that was L.

Save him, break his curse?

Thus far Light was neither a prince, nor a knight in shining armor. What could he do but despair if Snow White even refused to bite into the luscious crimson skin that allowed him his part of the fairytale, the stage where he could crack the glass coffin and lure his sleeping love with a kiss?

Did that mean he couldn't become the wicked witch, as well?

Or perhaps he was interpreting it the erroneous way. If Snow White stalled and didn't bite in, if his charms failed to attain the desired fallout, perhaps he could instead thrust the apple past her enviable lips, plunge it down her white as snow throat…

Light raised his eyes to meet untarnished obsidian. "I could still hurt you."

His intentions were wasted, however, for the creature at his mercy did not as much bat an eye. In fact, his stare was more of a feline grin at the idle menaces of his cherished little victim mice. "Mirror, mirror, Raito-kun," the ashen lips mouthed pleasantly.

Mirror-mirror …

And insightful it was, because Light understood now, perhaps had known it all along even, that attacking Maleficent would achieve nothing, except for, perchance, bringing forth an even horrendous beast, a creature of wild live fire itself. Unfurling immediate destruction would be what he'd bring about…It was the only thing he was sure of.

Malice…

The chains jingled as they fell onto the sheets in a gleaming heap around his cuff. Light rested back on his knees, balls of his feet supporting an acquiesced cadaver, surprised for his mind to be at a loss as whether to laugh or shed tears. He supposed he was finally losing his sanity, going all round the bend. Perhaps he should pull at his hair as well?

The porcelain legs beneath him twitched to comfy.

Light, in one piece owing to sheer might of will power, looked up to find the detective staring at him, obsidian orbs sympathetic, almost tender. The gloom beneath his endless fissures seemed moist. His bony frame was propped up on two angled elbows, thighs placid under the boy's. The slack metallic links that perched upon his shoulders starkly contrasted his sallow complexion.

His head tilted slightly; a parody of childlike innocence, making him resemble a black cat that was so sleek and elegant and yet capable of wounding your way with an ominous fate.

Yes, fascinating, portentous…that was L.

"Is something bothering Raito-kun?"

Did Snow White not realize that her stepmother dear was brimming with envy and malice? Was it beyond her perception that the one she was distressing over might forecast to ruin her very verve?

Light let a wry smile lace his lips. "Why do you say that?" He asked softly.

"Raito-kun, countering a question with another is surely deemed impolite now, is it not?"

Light lowered his gaze, not wanting that monster in those mirthless pools of anonymity to taint his own torpid russet. His fists clenched and unclenched.

"You really believe that I'm Kira, don't you, Ryuuzaki," it was rather a whispered statement. The boy gave a brittle laugh, staring at his flexed fingers, "And you still arranged these hand-cuffs, knowing that I might kill you one day. And though I'd never admit to being Kira, because I'm not them, I could have strangled you. Just a little more force and you'd have fallen over dead. Don't you get it Ryuuzaki? No matter the cameras or not, the death sentence awaiting or not, I could've killed you. I would have killed you, Ryuuzaki. You'd be dead."

"What is Raito-kun implying?" Blinking, the creature scooted closer to him.

Light locked his honey orbs into those unfathomable pools of curio, shuddering as his reflection leered back, "If you were awake, why didn't you stop me from the very start? What if I…?" He let the question hang meekly in the wintry air, quiet.

L's endless eyes did not flicker, a thumb, bitten at abstractedly, lodged between those pasty lips. He was unconsciously rubbing the raw marks around his neck. Light suddenly felt a minuscule bit blameworthy.

"…Because, Raito-kun, I find your actions very interesting and…distracting."

Distracting, Light mused, like the wicked witch who found dear Snow White too alluring to handle, and thereby caste her into the darkest woods in hopes of obtaining her heart? Or was it more of an apple offered to the dearest maiden that, en bloc, befell her ill fortune?

Should he be flattered?

The boy chuckled. "You're wasting your time on me, then, Ryuuzaki."

…Because L was no Cinderella, no Snow White. He cared little for a glass slipper, and even little for a Grand Ball. A single needle couldn't blight him. A lone bite wouldn't cause his death. He never desired for a Prince to trot towards him perched upon a grand steed. He didn't need a true love's kiss to awaken from his slumber, didn't need anyone to break away from that glass coffin.

Or perhaps he simply didn't want to.

And so, what could Prince Charming do if Snow White didn't want to be awoken?

Light, miserable, smiled inwardly.

It was the detective who heaved a sigh then, an action so far-off that Light's cranium jerked up to regard him. His pallid, lean stature was slouched, resigned, his vertebrae pronounced through white fabric.

Light's eyes widened to see the slight body lean forwards, astounded when the ceramic face eradicated the detachment until their foreheads rested against one another, sensual. Though the iciness of that bare skin against his own made the boy cringe, the soft coiffure of ebony kept him from moving away, still, unable to inhale or utter a word, rendered captivated and spellbound.

Malice…?

"I beg to differ, Raito-kun," the husky monotone was no more than a whisper as cold fingers clasped onto either side of the boy's face, tilting his gaze up, forcing his eyes to stare deeply into the bottomless puddles of midnight, "because time is the one luxury I can afford."

Light breathed in longingly, the seductive fragrance of strawberries he'd come to associate with this enchanting creature making his heart flutter, eyes quivering shut. This was L.

Saccharine, compassionate…that was L.

"Ryuuzaki…"

Light couldn't help but lean in, rapt and engrossed, desperate to be close to this creature.

Perhaps it was the sleeplessness taking its toll on his senses; perhaps being in a strange company every waking hour had made him outlandish as well, or perhaps it was just his hatred morphing into a bizarre passion to save himself from sinking into the earth so below that none could hear his cries of trepidation and anxiety, but right then, Light didn't care.

He closed his ears to all rationality, riveting in that cold caress across his flustered, hot cheek.

And when they kissed, the exotic taste of this being pouring into his very soul, lips frantic, their teeth clashing, tongues twisting, hands roaming to interweave and touch longingly, Light couldn't bring himself to ponder upon its consequences and stop. No Kira or that lucid, haughty detective existed. No terror of execution loomed above his head.

Light felt so hopelessly euphoric that he didn't want the other to rouse and break this spell either.

He would never admit it aloud, especially to this monster now wheezing against him, but perhaps it was this unattainable fairytale that turned him astringent in the first place…Because only when he was guilty, Light meant something to him.

…Because it was only L's distrust that had brought and tied them together since their odd little 'once upon a time' …But to hope for a 'happily ever after'?

Yagami Light must be outright insane to even reckon that notion.

He pushed the ceramic body onto equally snow white sheets. The chains tinkled, wrapping around each other and nestling into the mattress alongside his zealous, frenetic lip lock.

Perhaps L was a beast, or worse, he was Maleficent herself. His inexpert lips could halt all of a sudden. He might awaken any moment and end this fairytale right there, proceed tearing down into his victim with no sense of remorse, no mercy, because Light knew it, discerned it. He felt that this was far too duplicitous of even L.

Unless it allowed him to deem victorious, unless it was too fascinating and excessively lavish to refuse, unless it brought upon some kind of fairness to mankind, L would never concede to mortal desires.

Malice…?

Unwavering, ethical…That was L.

While he leaned down and captured breathless lips again, pressing as close to that porcelain body as humanly possible, basking and burning in the moment, fingers slipping under stainless fabric to caress sensitive, supple skin that belonged to this tantalizing being who winded under him, so innocent, so delicate, it ate at Light's psyche, cut into his heart forebodingly.

…Because it was so evident that it was not this iniquitous creature, but he himself, like dear Aurora, who needed to be rescued from the recurring nightmares of an awestruck slumber.

Yet could L be anything but the Wicked Witch, perhaps even his Prince?

Or would he forever remain the cursed needle?

As the detective lay sprawled beneath him, panting, lips bruised and battered and licentious yet still decadently attractive, midnight tresses clenched in his tanned fists, porcelain meeting his insatiably ravenous mouth, Light didn't heed who his Prince was, didn't pine for that dazzling stallion to halt by his age old castle.

If it would tear him out of this beautiful trance, draw him away from his bittersweet reverie, Light prayed to whatever God that existed to never meet him at all.

"…Is Raito-kun up?"

"W-what?" The boy stuttered, snapped out of his rumination.

"I am inquiring if Raito-kun is feeling happy, now that he is not strangling me and his troubled proceedings have dissipated into…" a dark glance towards his crotch, "…even troubled ones," the monotone replied, incredulous, sounding slightly out of breath as the ceramic body attempted to sit up amid the little personal space Light's obtrusive stance left. "Can he not interpret those simple words?"

"…Oh, that."

"Well, whatever else does Raito-kun think I could be referring to then?"

Light screwed his eyes shut, exhaling, trying to keep the heat from creeping up his already flustered features. His heart slid down his throat and back into its righteous place, continuing to thud there violently against his ribcage.

What had he expected, really?

This creature was exactly the kind of person who'd feign ignorance when it was least called for. Even if he was naive Snow White beloved, L wouldn't be noble enough to keep it to himself without pointing things out.

…Immoral?

"N-nothing," the boy spoke, mentally shaking himself.

"My, I never noticed that Raito-kun suffered from speech impediment."

Light frowned. "I don't."

"Yet you were stuttering."

"I-I wasn't!"

"Raito-kun has lost his exceptional ability of deceiving as well."

Frustration flowed at the sudden change of itinerary, and Light made an irritated snort at the back of his throat. "Well, sorry that I couldn't hear it when you were 'inquiring', because I'd been busy, you see?" He emphasized and gestured towards the detective's disheveled appearance, hoping to acquire his consent for continuing their earlier proceedings.

"Hearing impairment, too, then? What an endless inventory of surprises Raito-kun is."

Light's eye twitched, and he wasn't sure if kissing the detective would shut him up or slapping him. "And what an endless inventory of annoyance Ryuuzaki is," he spat at last, thoroughly annoyed.

It was always like that with them, amorous then belligerent; a pendulum, one instant on the friendly extreme, and the next into a hostile camber… back and forth and back and forth, never tiring, never ceasing to oscillate.

But Light wished it would stop now, if only once. Either sides were fine with him.

The once pallid lips, now an alluring shade of rubies, and practically begging to be devoured again, twisted into a thin smile. "If Raito-kun is up enough to exhibit cynicism, he may as well remove himself from my person so that I might get some work done." The detective drawled, those slim fingers splaying against Light's chest, and pushed at him dismissively.

The boy did not budge. "What do you -?"

"Raito-kun, Kira will not care about your adolescent necessities while they are on a killing spree."

"What the hell are you talking about? This isn't-!"

Stark midnight stared at him blankly, "Yes?"

Was it Light's mind that had become corrupt or did this creature really have no perception regarding their current intimacy? Did he think this was some everyday occurrence that anybody could indulge in? Was it only meaningless pubescent in his inspection? Did he truly not understand the state of Light's heart… and his desires?

Perhaps it meant nothing to him if this spell turned somber. Perhaps he shattered this delusion with full intent in truth.

And was this Maleficent awakening at long last?

Light felt his mind tumble to the edge of melancholy. Why did he have to answer back, or better still, why did this creature have to fracture his fantasy with those nonchalant, dubious annotations in the first place? More still, why did he, Yagami Light, even care to fret over it?

…Perhaps the glass coffin was never his to shatter at all.

"Never mind," Light put on a perceptive up quirk of lips, forcing the detective's hands away from his throbbing chest, the manacles ringing with his motions, and straightened himself, "You are an indifferent bastard, after all. I forget that some times."

It was a tensed moment even the chains couldn't dare to disturb that followed.

Malice…

L stared at him impassively, cool, almost as if the words had fluttered into the night before reaching his ears. Then his face contorted into a sad little smile that screamed of sacrilege, of insolence.

Ignorance, darling Snow White…was it her fault that she couldn't sense the poison that laced this crimson orb and would, at length, lace her own slumber to a zenith from where no friendly dwarfs could bring her back?

Or had Maleficent truly known no heart?

Stainless pools of obscurity locked onto his honey eyes, rueful, almost heartrending, "…Raito-kun thinks I'm indifferent?"

It was a question Light had mulled over a lot in the past, though why he'd needed to do that he couldn't commit to memory. Was it indifference this creature portrayed, which saw him as nothing more than a suspect chained to that porcelain wrist? Who could accuse him with absolute sincerity of a crime he didn't commit, who could spin lies of amity to feed his own inferno…

Why, then, did the momentary hurt in those mirrors bother Yagami Light?

"Aren't you?"

Gradient to an odd angle, the detective's face was vacant again, his eyes even blanker. A pastel wrist rose indolently, metal jingling and clinking in its wake and the creature wiped at wine-colored lips, as if Light's fleetest touch burned into him some unspeakable revulsion.

"Of course, I cannot contradict that," he drawled, a voice so hollow that Light couldn't be sure if he'd heard right at first. The onyx orbs stared into honey, like bits of smoldering coal, as if expecting him to keel over and drop dead any second. "But, you see, it is necessary, absolutely necessary that I possess such apathy. I cannot help but adopt it, for my own self, if you will. Indifference is my fortress. It keeps me sane. It keeps me alive. It keeps me from committing to unsightly conducts. That is why I am able to sentence criminals and protect the innocent. If it wasn't for that one thing, Yagami-kun, I would not be where I am today."

Light felt icy tendrils, stinging, disquieting, creep around his racing heart.

Backing up a little, he gawked at the detective, the slight humanity belying this malevolent creature finally sinking into his own being. Cold chills ran down his back. He shivered, vaguely aware of the fact that he was still sitting on lean legs, their denim criss-crossing under him, but having no real want to either close in or to pry them away.

Perhaps Maleficent was not the one at fault, perhaps it had been the Royalty who deliberately did not invite her to bless darling Aurora. Perhaps she couldn't help but become wrathful to have been treated that way.

As this creature, with eyes that cloaked unendurable loneliness, was only distrustful because no one he'd come across ever gave him a chance to believe otherwise.

"You mean you chose to murder your own emotions?"

The detective gave an unsettling, arid chuckle. "I subsist through conscience only. Emotions, Yagami-kun, inhabit mortals," he inflected, voice low, his obsidian orbs dark and morose, "and L cannot meet the expense of becoming one of them."

Malice…?

After all, had Maleficent ever been presented with even one good cause to not cast her spell unto dear Aurora?

"Can I convince you to?" The boy whispered.

"…I do not understand what Yagami-kun would wish to achieve by doing so, unless…he were Ki-?"

Light wasn't sure when his own body moved, but suddenly there was an uproar of metal and he found the ceramic visage within pecking distance, the aloof, wintry eyes scrutinizing his suddenly intimidating frame. The other male was pinned beneath him, stiff, motionless, those midnight orbs vacant.

"I'm not Kira! Just answer me, damn it!"

Unruffled mirrors reflected the desperation and lunacy he exhibited. The hoarse monotone was devoid of any emotion. "That is beyond questioning I'm afraid. As I'm sure Yagami-kun realizes, I am not a woman, and do not plan on becoming one anytime soon. What reason, then, do I have to allow him any of this?"

Really, what cause did Maleficent have to let dear Aurora frolic away unscathed either?

"Y-you," Light lowered his gaze, talking more to himself, "…You don't. Ryuuzaki, you don't."

"I'm glad Yagami-kun understands."

The boy caught a pale wrist, holding it against the glacial mattress, frigid, nails burrowing into the flesh as if literally anchoring himself to his reason. His lips moved, cautiously, almost fearful of the response he would receive to his further inquiries. In more ways than he'd like to acknowledge or let people believe, Yagami Light was fruitless, an utterly bleak, dismal case.

"… Because you think I'm Kira?" He asked softly.

L put a thoughtful thumb against his claret lips, empty eyes regarding the dimness of the ceiling, as if all the secrets of the Universe were carved onto its clandestine, gloomy surface. His pallid face revealed no passion at all.

"…Correct."

Light felt himself drowning, factually sinking into a puddle of anger and despair, brutality and remorse, submerged, and searching frantically to cling onto any straws of shredded sanity. Could he ever be anything but a lawbreaker for this creature? He wreathed, fraught for anything to keep himself afloat.

"And if you're wrong?"

The detective chewed at his thumbnail. "That is idle speculation, Yagami-kun."

Lightning struck between frozen schorl and flaming opal.

"…So is yours, Ryuuzaki, because I'm not them. I'm not Kira. And I never was! You're obsessed, Ryuuzaki, or Ryuga, or L or whatever the hell your current alter ego is called. Ha, it's like you won't be satisfied if I'm not Kira, if I turn out to be innocent. That's what you are after! You want me to be them, isn't it?" Light gave a hysterical chuckle at the slight, incredulous widening of obsidian, "You want me to be Kira!"

"That is nonsense, Yagami-kun. You are my friend, my first and only one at that, as you are well aware of. If anything, I'm doing this so you can prove your innocence," the detective gestured towards the cuffs then looked into flaring honey again, "considering you are innocent, of course."

"You're trying to say this is supposed to be helping me? You think I can believe that?"

Light was going skeptical by this point, but the man in question remained unperturbed, flaunting the same lethargic quietude that was forever fixed over his countenance. His mirrors reflected Light's immaturity in all its primitiveness.

"I don't understand why Yagami-kun fails to see that I am trying my best to help him."

"...By what, groundless guesswork and accuses?" Light tightened his grasp on the other's arm, "You want to help me, Ryuuzaki? You really want to?" He lowered his voice over barely a whisper, "Then, if I give you a good enough reason to, will you become one of them…A mortal?"

"That does not concern the task at -"

"Answers, Ryuuzaki!" Light snapped.

"…I will remain indifferent."

"…Oh, will you, now?" He spat through clenched teeth, his nose almost brushing against the detective's, "Or maybe you won't. May be you'll become human, become weak. It's not just that you hate to lose, but that you can't bear to lose, Ryuuzaki. I know that. Maybe that is what this is about, your indifferent attitude and pride crumbling under actual emotions. You're afraid, aren't you?"

Cool breathe washed over Light's scorching face. The intensity with which the other, still unmoving, stared at his eruption almost unnerved him.

"…Fright, Yagami-kun, is a mortal sentiment."

Light did not understand. He blinked rapidly, clueless, trying to make heads or tails out of that bland yet cryptic avowal.

It was perfectly normal by this point. Their conversations hardly ever made sense, being all thought and rethought and scrambled into a bloody helical mess, a bundle so perverse that at times even they themselves couldn't have a handle on the original hearsay. And even then, Light had to keep his wits together or Ryuuzaki was all over him with a routine quota of how 'he did this so he must be Kira'.

Malice…?

It was only when the pallid creature closed his eyes and relaxed further into the snow white sheets, metal jingling against the vastness of the mattress, those fragile arms Light wanted to be embraced into so dearly spread, that made him realize what it meant. Though it was what he'd sought, his eyes widened to unattainable proportions.

"…R-Ryuuzaki, what are-?"

"Go ahead, Yagami-kun. I suggest you get on with it," the monotone echoed in the dead of the night, "Assist yourself all you want. I am not as weak to fall for mortal passion as you deem me to be."

Light felt flabbergasted, "…Ryuuzaki, is this just a game to you?"

"Isn't it to you?"

Mirror-mirror…

Light inhaled deeply, resisting the urge to snap back something equally insulting. What the hell did he even mean by that? The guy was actually making light of, well, Yagami Light? Suddenly, slugging the detective into his snowy, high and mighty face seemed such a brilliant inspiration.

Arrogant, immature…That was L.

Light's jaw set into grim solemnity. "Alright, then, I won't hold back," he rasped, head dipping downwards to connect with ceramic.

Vicious, scathing desires came resurfacing in his honey eyes.

L's granite orbs fluttered open. Skillful fingers dug into snow white skin, interweaving to the point of pain within midnight locks. With his body pressing against the slight, smooth porcelain, Light couldn't help but claim the cherry lips once more.

The kiss was hot and bruised and demanding, a wicked concoction of admiration, abhorrence, adore and abomination, of lost sanctity and the famed fallacy of friendship.

It didn't matter that L wasn't responding, or that when he was, half-heartedly, his motions were unsynchronized and clumsy, as if he was waiting for this entire ordeal to just be done and over with. Though disconcerting, and extremely infuriating for anyone, it didn't matter that the skinny detective had a control over his carcass that would not surrender either.

The only thing Yagami Light desired right then was to upset that white, hoarfrost tranquility.

As he pried the hot orifice open, domineering, his tongue slipping past sugary lips, Light felt strangely greedy, starving. He wanted to rip into that panting wreck, to crunch into those perking nipples and strangle that insipid gorge to the point of asphyxiation. He was famished, in fact, keen on eating up the creature beneath him whole.

Malice…?

It was a blur in which fabric rustled and crinkled and was, finally, left dangling onto the metallic links, discarded.

Unclipped nails did not dig into his bare back. Cries that'd have accentuated their intimacy died at the back of a pale throat, stubborn, clamped shut. The boy made a low growl of annoyance, biting ferociously, yet the creature beneath him kept from feeding his arrogance. He wouldn't let an ounce of ecstasy charm his features …Because this was L.

He would remain obdurate and restrained, unyielding in all respects, as if willing his body to give the other no satisfaction whatsoever as long as it meant conquest over his adversary.

Obnoxious, resolute…That was L.

…Why did Snow White keep stalling her impeding enchantment?

Yet Light couldn't close his eyes to the reason why, despite an apple blush kissing those pastel cheeks and a tune of uneven breathing caressing the night air, this creature persistently mired and hindered his heretical advances.

…Wasn't it the same raison d'être that had held him back for so long?

L was like a rose, delicate, exquisite, with a dozen layers of crimson ardor that enshrined his splendor, his magnificence. Yet none of those petals could ever make him give into corporeal desires.

To fall for your arch nemesis, to be mesmerized and wooed by their poison apples, to be drawn into candid inquisitiveness towards the enchanted miasma of a needle, it was something that L, with his principles and morality or without, would by no means succumb to.

L would ever more deny his humanity.

And with the porcelain expanse of skin radiant in an obscured glow, and the chilling mirrors chiding him like bloodthirsty hawks, Light would forever strive to make him submit into it.

…It was a magical tragedy in all its prominence.

And when they coupled, metallic links chiming into a sad, acerbic sonata of church bells, ebony seeming intensified in honey, moon white interlocking with sun kissed, midnight merging into early dawn, legs flailing, hands reaching out to desperately search for an anchor, garnet aching lips parted, the creature under him squirming and choking and wreathing, gasping, moaning …its resonance resembled to Light, ominous, no short of a shattered symphony.

Malice…?

…Because this was a first for L, and had no feelings of his own to commence it whatsoever. He hadn't desired to be sealed by this revolting ritual. He hadn't called for the copious amount of fascination taken towards him. It was the wanton, foul longing of Yagami Light alone which strained him into it, which deviously pushed him into this unhallowed myth of love making.

L was an Angel in all regards, an unblemished Seraph, the one that would never fall to this stratum if he were left to his own devices, if things be in his devout, honorable hands.

Innocent, pure…That was L.

It was a contemptible ballroom blitz, one that Light led and this captivating creature followed, irresolute, irksome, graceless and faltering at every step, averse and utterly unwilling, but still there to entwine their fingers in concert, even if not for the reasons he'd pined for, to make him feel more than some immature, curious Princess being drawn in by the twinkle of a foreign apparatus.

…At last.

And so the luscious crimson orb had bewitched beloved Snow White to bite in…

L was responding. Not entirely, neither flattering, but he was still acknowledging the boy's vile ministrations. This morose, supercilious creature was giving in to the bliss he, Yagami Light, a Kira suspect, had crafted. The lone thought of it aroused him to inexplicable altitudes.

…Precious Snow White, envied for her unrivaled beauty to the point where others sought her tender, beating heart.

Or perhaps this was Maleficent luring her victim into an ambush?

But with a deep flush adoring the once docile features, the porcelain body shivering with spasms of blasphemous pain and pleasure, deep eyes ample with iridescent emotions, the anonymity underneath them beguiling, thirsty lips glued to his own desiccated pair, and the delectable string of profanities and sanctities that poured out of that breathless mouth in twelve diverse tongues, Light couldn't care less, because this was L.

Gorgeous, fascinating …That was L.

The only one capable of coercing him astray from his reason …That was L.

Perhaps the glass coffin cracked and shattered, perhaps the chains turned into a thread that bound them as one instead, or perhaps the malicious spell caste onto him was finally broken.

But with this monster under him, the one he'd admired and feared every wakeful hour, the one who'd daunted his nightmares and ran wild in his fantasies, Light couldn't deny the fact that it was dear Aurora being graced with a true love's kiss.

…Perhaps the one that'd be the death of her.

For L was no prince either. He had no interest in either a mare or a suit of armors. He would not wait for dearest Aurora to come out of her bereaved slumber. He would, instead, drive a blade through her heart the moment it was opportune and never let her stir. He would rejoice in her silent downfall with all his spirit.

And Light was aware of it, too.

…Because he found himself breaking as he moved with a feral velocity, fingers digging into slim hips that did not even attempt to equal his riled cadence. It grated at his reason when the creature beneath him anguished and arched and spilled but never pressed forward into that waltz. He felt it chill his mind and swelter his innards when the depraved, alluring orifice latched onto his eager lips by reason of his own grisly instigations.

It was little save for a crude affair of give-and-take. They weren't making love, Light knew, for they never possibly will, and yet he couldn't help but despair.

It was heartbreaking, almost tragic, sinking in deeper and rising with new found vitality every time he rocked, growing intense and passionate with each passing thrust but to have little credence in their ballet, in this unraveled atonement he was playing at, his own cry gratuitous as he was driven over the edge.

With everything exploding into tiny, pastille sparks of demise that blinded him into a fit of dreadful pleasure, he couldn't even laugh at this irony, this macabre quirk of fate.

And so, for the first time in over seventeen years of joie de vivre and steeping brilliance, Yagami Light found the only moment where he became an absolutely dim, deplorable disarray of obtuseness.

…Or more befitting, that darling Aurora lost her Prince to Maleficent herself.

As he buckled and dissolved into a sweaty, sultry heap onto the pale flesh, auburn strands of silk into his honey eyes, chains clinking into an abandoned mound of clammy metal beside their panting frames, Light knew it was the majestic villainess he was so audaciously endowing his living, pounding heart to.

With an incandescent blaze supporting his head, the porcelain stretch of skin under him blushing into early cherry blossoms, spidery fingers entangled into his own dampness, heavy breathes mingling into one mellow, ignominious work of art, rose-petals of lips wild and wanton, legs parted and eternal mirrors hooded, and with the warmth enveloping him still illusory, Light knew he was pressing close to death itself.

It was a flash of reality none could have the courage to refute …for Light understood it perfectly, overwhelmingly. He couldn't be as near peril than he already was.

Perhaps it hadn't been the detective but Light himself who couldn't help but deem to mortal passion that this terrible creature had warped into him.

The boy smiled to himself.

Whether a Beast, beloved Snow White or Maleficent …Though the detective might look like an angel in this fairytale realm of his, Light knew, that in actuality he was anything but.

A Saintly Lucifer…After all that was L.

"I notice that Raito-kun has a very dire habit of nibbling and biting. Perhaps he's hungry? Or is he impersonating the infamous Wolf, trying to make a supper out of the Little Red Riding Hood?"

"…It's called marking, Ryuuzaki…hmmm, a love bite."

"Does that mean I belong to Raito-kun now?"

"…if you want it to."

"So he likes me?"

"Sure."

"…And does he love me?"

"What? That's… I-I…I don't know, Ryuuzaki."

"…I see. Can I mark you too, then, Raito-kun?"

"I swear I'll bite off this very delectable part of your anatomy if you keep at this idle chit-chat, Ryuuzaki."

"…Up by four percent."

"Oh, let me guess, because if I don't let you, who's L, mark me, then I'm definitely Kira? Ryuuzaki, that's the most absurd one amongst your list of Kira theories ever. Both Matsuda and Misa can do better than that!"

"Why, Raito-kun, I think it is sound reasoning."

"…You're childish, aren't you?"

And henceforth Maleficent beamed, indulging in her prowess, for the spindle had already enchanted the beautiful Princess, the needle had already pricked her delicate finger, the spell cast by this malevolent entity. But alas, dear Aurora, would she see another ray, find her Prince at all?

"Mirror-mirror, Raito-kun."

Perhaps, one day, in an unlikely world, an odd fairytale.

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O_O!

…Refrain from throwing stones, please.

So, yeah, like Sayloni mentioned earlier, inspired from 'Poison Apple'… heavily, you may add -_- … None of the above takes place in the PA series save for the "Mirror-mirror" dialogue (that's a little something Sayloni fell in love with). Don't stab her if it's not too justifiable of the DN boys or the original fanfiction \(~_~)/ It got her desktop cleansed up before we moved to a new place anyway, so blame the computer!

Not advertising, but Sayloni thinks you should probably read 'Poison Apple' so you wouldn't be like, 'OMG! L is Snow White?! Light is Aurora?! And who the hell's Maleficent? WTF?" and all. ;P It's classic, she tells you. Whenever she rereads it she still dreams of bruised, bleeding apples and L in a Snow White dress, even when none of that actually happens in the fic! …Majorly creepy (!o_O)/

…L was OOC? Sayloni had a vague suspicion someone would point it out -_- But well, one can't probably predict what that detective would do unless he actually does it, so there!

And she has no idea why Light turned out as such a disturbed, pitiable, bloodthirsty teenager (and he's supposed to not have his memories of being Kira too!)…my, my, even the death note couldn't manage to make him as twisted as Sayloni did o_O

(^_^) / So, reviews?

Your keyboard feels neglected too, you know?


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